MISS MONTRESSOR TO LA MARQUISE DE VILLEROI.

Ir is now a year since I have written to you, chère Delphine: your last letter gave me so much pain by its philosophy, that pernicious philosophy, which I shall ever accuse myself of having instilled into you,—that I had not spirits to write to you of aught but my regrets, and in these you have convinced me you take no interest, have no sympathy.

Oh, Delphine! that philosophy failed me the moment when, wounded and despairing, I tried to lean on it for consolation. It stood revealed to me shorn of all its sophistry, and hideous in its deformity; to remorse it could give no answer, to grief no balm. It seemed like some chimera dire; the creation of an excited brain, that mocked my anguish, and added to my despair. When I discovered its fallacy, Delphine, I shuddered at recollecting that you, also, were its dupe, that I had made you so, and I prayed for power to exorcise this foul spirit from the breast into which I had introduced it. I pray so still, and entreat you to believe that nothing but unhappiness can await those who trust in it, as I know by bitter, bitter experience.

Every line in your letter was as a dagger that pierced my soul, and the wounds bled not the less that I had furnished the weapon.

In a week I am to become the wife of Lord Annandale, to take the place of that angel whom I destroyed. I shall fear to see her in all the rooms which she once occupied; and my heart melts in tenderness before the visions my fancy creates, as I behold her approving the change in my sentiments-a change that she would have hailed with such satisfaction.

I have been living in solitude during the last year, in a cottage near Richmond. I have read, much, and thought more-I hope not without profit. I have renounced all faith in the pernicious doctrines that so long perverted my mind, and have laid down a system of conduct for my future life, which, if it redeem not my past crimes, will, at least, be a security against the committal of any future ones.

Adieu, chère Delphine! Votre amie,

CAROLINE.

FROM LA MARQUISE DE VILLEROI TO MISS MONTRESSOR.

Ir gave me great pleasure, ma chère Caroline, to see your hand-writing again, after so long and unaccountable a silence. Vraiment c'étoit bien méchante de votre part, to leave me so long in ignorance of your destiny. You deserve a severe lecture; but, as I have nearly as great a dislike to giving as receiving such proofs of interest, I shall spare you, hoping this generosity on my side will be rewarded by a more regular correspondence on yours.

And so you are on the eve of being transformed into Madame la Comtesse d'Annandale. I wish you joy with all my heart; and, I trust, that your new position will bestow on you all the happiness that wealth, station, and the various agrémens you possess ought to secure. That they may do so, let me counsel you to abandon the romantic and exaggerated notions you have lately acquired -notions peculiar to your country women; and which tend to render them dissatisfied with the actual and positive good within their reach, because it falls short of some fancied one of which they have dreamed, or read in ro

mances,

You have been of late disposed to view all en noir.— This is neither wise nor philosophical, and, because I bantered you on this sombre tendency, you cease to write to me. You have suffered an excited imagination to represent le Chevalier de Carency as the fearful hero of a melo-drame, instead of a mauvais sujet, which he is; and you then become terrified at the phantom which you have yourself created. Had you assailed him with ridicule, of which all men, and especially vain ones, are so susceptible, he would have been more tractable, and you, chère Caroline, would have suffered less annoyance. Mais à present, tout cela est fini, and the brilliancy of your new position will console you for the troubles of the past. Would that I could tell you that mine was

ameliorated since I last wrote to you.

Hélas! it is any thing but agreeable; but, as dwelling on the subject will not render it less painful, I will spare you and myself the useless chagrin of recapitulating my grievances.

Apropos of grievances, mon pauvre Florestan, is still tormented by his abominable creditors, who menace him with arrest. Mais le cher homme s'amuse toujours, malgré tout cela. He is really a philosopher, and reduces to practice what others adopt only in theory. His embarrassments are a great source of discomfort to me; for, independently of their frequently depriving me of the pleasure of his society, by compelling his absence, in order to avoid his creditors, it furnishes his tiresome aunt with an excuse for prohibiting me from entering into general society: as if my staying at home, which ennuies me to death, could pay poor Florestan's debts. Mais que voulez-vous? Old people, and, above all, old aunts, are invariably stupid, and prone to torment, and never are at all amusing, except on the stage, when their peculiarities are mis en evidence.

The lectures of madame la duchesse, ma tante, are interminable; and, now that Florestan is not, as hitherto, present to share them, they fall still more heavily on me. The house resembles nothing but a convent, which, of the two, would be less disagreeable, for the abbess would not have the knowledge of my past indiscretions to convert into a theme for homilies and reproaches, which form the constant subject of ma tante's conversation. je vous demands pardon, ma chère, pour vous avoir ennuyé avec cette triste tirade: I really had determined on not entering on my domestic chagrins, but some few have escaped from my pen; be grateful that I have stopped

so soon.

Mais

I wish you would induce milord to come to Paris, that I might again embrace you; and assure you, vivá voce, how truly I am Ma chère Caroline's

Amie devouée,

DELPHINE, MARQUISE DE VILLEROI.

THE COUNTESS OF ANNANDALE TO LA MARQUISE DE
VILLEROI.

You know not how much it pains me, ma chère Delphine, to discover, by your last letter, that Florestan is menaced with St. Pelagie, and you scarcely less than a prisoner in the sombre residence of his aunt. I entreat your acceptance of the enclosed sum: any banker at Paris will give you gold for the bank-note; and do not imagine that, by its acceptance, you put me to the least inconvenience; I am only too happy to be of use to one for whom I entertain so sincere a regard.

It is a great relief to my feelings that we have come to spend the first month of our wedded life at Annandale Castle-a fine seat of my husband's, where Augusta has never been. Here is no portrait, no memorial of her, to remind me that she ever existed; nothing, save the neverdying, still, small voice of conscience, which incessantly reproaches me.

Lord Annandale is all kindness-all affection; and every thing around me is marked by a splendour and taste that might satisfy the most ambitious and fastidious of my sex. Now, therefore, for the first time, I am mistress of the rank and wealth for which I have so long sighed; and for the attainment of which I have committed such fearful crimes. Yet, do I enjoy the coveted baubles, now that they are mine? Alas, no! the thought of how they have been obtained destroys all; and gladly— oh, how gladly! would I exchange them for obscurity, could I obtain peace of mind.

The husband who cherishes me and smiles on me will turn away in horror, knew he my crimes, or that he was the dupe to my arts: and the very attendants,

.